The Story of Us

by Barbara Elsborg

  “You have any idea what Zed is going to decide to do?” Jonas put a cup of coffee in front of Caspian and sat opposite him at the kitchen table.

  “No, but he’s told me he doesn’t want to say anything until after Glastonbury which makes me think he’s not going to continue with the band. Otherwise, why not just announce he’s chosen music? The number of terrorist attacks this year have put pressure on him to make him think he ought to be helping with the fight against Muslim extremists.”

  “Even though Fahid is now dead?”

  “There are a lot more fanatics out there. Maybe his brother is one of them. I think Zed needs to know one way or the other about Tamaz. It preys on his mind. Maybe he thinks he can find out the truth if he works for MI5. But he comes alive when he’s playing his guitar or the piano, well, whatever the instrument. Music’s his drug. You understand that.”

  Jonas nodded. “I do but it was never a matter of choice for me. Music is all I’ve ever been good at. Zed has a brilliant mind. Between you and me, what would you like to him to choose?”

  Caspian shrugged.

  “You must have thought about it.”

  All the time. “Do you worry about Henry?”

  “All the time. He’s not a frontline guy but even so…”

  “I suppose Zed’s safer working for MI5 provided he stays behind a desk and doesn’t even think about going out into the field. I know he’s clever. Brilliant with computers. Plus he speaks Farsi and some Arabic. The job would mean largely regular hours. But I don’t trust Jackson. If he thought he could use Zed in some op, he would.”

  “Not if Henry caught wind of it.”

  “Henry doesn’t know everything even though he thinks he does.”

  Jonas laughed. “You’re not going to catch him out.”

  “I’m going to keep trying.” Caspian had taken over Zed’s game with Henry and looked up random facts to test Henry’s knowledge of trivia. He hadn’t caught him out yet.

  “What do you see happening if Zed goes for the music option?” Jonas asked.

  “I guess whether the band makes it or not, it will be all-consuming. Years of playing all over the place trying to make it or maybe instant success after Glastonbury and they’ll be catapulted to fame. If that happens, then life moves out of his control. The schedule will be relentless, not just playing music but talking about it too and Zed’s not so keen on that side of it.”

  Jonas nodded. “You’re right. If the band makes it, it will be one concert after another all over the country and even abroad, long journeys on buses, nights in hotels, appearances on TV and radio, meetings with publicists, sponsors, interviews with the press, working with photographers. It’ll be as if he’s climbed on a train that never stops. Exciting but exhausting.”

  “He’d have to yank me on board when it occasionally slowed down in the neighbourhood. If it was just him and not the band, maybe he’d have more say and it wouldn’t be so punishing. But if he decides against the band, he’s letting at least three people down very badly.”

  Caspian paused. That was more than he’d said in a long while on a subject that should stay private. But Zed never wanted to talk about it and now Caspian had started, he didn’t want to stop.

  “You have a punishing schedule too. You do masterclasses, teach at a conservatory and play in that chamber group, but the orchestra has to come first. I remember you telling me that the LSO had landed a week of film sessions that would pay really well but then it was postponed and didn’t fit in the schedule anymore. You and Henry had cancelled a holiday so that you could do the work, only to find it wasn’t going to happen. You even have to rush back from Glastonbury on Sunday because you have a concert at seven that night.”

  “It is all-consuming. I’m lucky Henry understands.”

  “I’d be a problem for Zed too,” Caspian muttered. “What does he say if the press ask about me? Can’t be anything other than the truth because they’ll catch him out if he lies. Electric Ice’s guitarist is going out with a guy whose dangerous driving killed three young girls. I don’t want to be responsible for making Zed’s life difficult. All I want is for him to be happy.”

  “Are you planning to leave him? You think that will make him happy?”

  “I’ve thought about it, but I can’t leave him. I physically cannot walk away. I know what that would do to him because I know what it would do to me. I have to wait and see if he walks away from me. But I don’t want him to choose MI5 because he thinks that’s the way we can stay together. If he makes that choice, it has to be because of something other than me. He won’t talk about any of this. Please don’t tell him we’ve discussed it.”

  “I won’t. Has he mentioned his birth father?”

  “He’s read everything he could find about him. He told me he didn’t want to write or email him in case a member of his family saw it. I think he wants to give him a chance to react to him privately but he’s not sure how to arrange that. I’m not sure that leaping out of a box and saying Surprise, I’m your son is the right way to go. I think Zed is desperate that the guy likes him and wants to get to know him.”

  “Gulshan’s coming to the UK next week.”

  “What?”

  “He’s been invited to be a guest conductor at a charity concert we’re playing on Monday night for the victims of the London Bridge and Westminster attacks.”

  Caspian widened his eyes. “How did you manage that?”

  Jonas shrugged. “I suggested it to our musical director and he agreed. Gulshan was only too delighted to accept. I think having a Muslim conducting us is a good thing as well.”

  “When are you going to tell Zed that a guy who’s probably his birth father is coming to the UK?”

  “I was wondering if he already knows.”

  “He’s not said anything to me and that’s not a topic that’s out of bounds.”

  “I’ll wait and tell him after Glastonbury. I don’t want to make him anxious. Plus I’ve arranged for him to play his cello at the concert. I have tickets for you and Henry.”

  “You do know he’ll kill you?”

  Jonas laughed.

  “You also have to know how much Zed loves the pair of you. And for what you have done for him, I will love you forever.”

  Jonas choked up and put his hand to his mouth. “And you said the L word without doing anything objectionable.”

  Caspian laughed. “He told you about that?”

  “Yes. You are the perfect guy for him. He didn’t need to tell me that. I can see it.” Jonas took a deep breath. “Not to destroy the moment, but how are you? Do you think the panic attacks are a thing of the past or are you worried the possibility of having one is still lurking? I guess I’m asking if you’d like to speak to someone.”

  “I think maybe the possibility of having a panic attack will always be there. I’m not counting how long passes between them. But though I know how terrifying they can be, I also know that I can come out of them. I feel better as a person now. My life is more than good. That makes a difference. I won’t give in to them. My life is mine, not theirs. When they happen, it’s fucking scary, but they end and I don’t have to end with them.”

  “If you ever need to talk…”

  Caspian nodded.

  Zed left for Glastonbury with his manager and the rest of the band in a van on Saturday afternoon, though not without grumbling because Henry had chartered a helicopter to get there on Sunday with Caspian and Jonas.

  “You can come back with us,” Henry said.

  Caspian gave Zed a lingering kiss goodbye then watched until the van was out of sight. It was his mother’s charity ball today. She’d texted to remind him. He’d texted her back. Sorry. Can’t make it. Everyone would have a better time without him around.

  Henry and Jonas were drinking Pimm’s in the kitchen when Caspian went back into the house.

  Jonas poured him a glass. “Ever been in a helicopter?”

  Caspian nodded. “Once in Switzerland. Zed
hasn’t. He’s not happy.”

  Henry laughed. “Life on the road isn’t pleasant. Motorway food. Motorway bathrooms. Long boring journeys.”

  “Did you charter a helicopter to prove a point?” Caspian asked.

  “Jonas needs to get back fast tomorrow and it takes too long by car or train though it won’t hurt Zed to see what he’s letting himself in for.”

  “Want anything to eat?” Jonas asked.

  “Cheese and biscuits would be good.” Henry smiled at him.

  “Ever eaten casu marzu?” Caspian asked.

  “No,” Jonas said. “Should I look for it in Sainsbury’s?”

  Henry laughed. “It’s banned.”

  Caspian’s shoulders slumped. “Don’t tell me you’ve eaten it.”

  “No way.” Henry shuddered.

  “What the hell is it?” Jonas asked.

  “Sardinian cheese that contains live maggots. The maggots can jump up to five inches out of the cheese while you're eating it.” Henry pinned his gaze on Caspian. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

  Caspian laughed.

  “So how’s the inventing going?” Henry asked.

  “I’ve got an investor interested in my idea for battery powered irons using the waste energy from washer and driers. I’m pitching the idea next week. The problem I have is that the more I know, the more I realise how stupid my ideas are. For instance, I thought there should be some way to use the heat that comes out of the back of fridges but apparently, there’s not enough heat to be of any use. Maybe that’s going to be true for washers and driers. Or I find out that someone has already invented what I thought was something original. I’m going to start looking for a job if this investor isn’t interested. And if… If it looks like mega-stardom is beckoning Zed, I’ll find somewhere to live. You won’t want me—”

  “Stop,” Henry said. “You can stay here as long as you want, as long as you need to.”

  “Thank you.” As long as I’m still with Zed. Caspian took a gulp of Pimm’s and almost choked on the slice of cucumber.

  Glastonbury was immense, colourful and noisy. Caspian found it overpowering, the crowds too much to cope with. He worried it was the sort of thing that could trigger a panic attack, so he kept his head down, fixed his gaze on Henry’s trim jean-clad backside and followed him and Jonas to The Park Stage where Electric Ice was due to start playing at twelve fifteen. She Drew The Gun were currently on stage.

  “A lot of people here already.” Jonas slung his arm over Caspian’s shoulder. “Want to get nearer?”

  “Let’s stay here,” Henry said. “If Zed can see anything, he’ll spot us if we’re out of the crowd.”

  “This act is good,” Caspian said. “Zed told me they won the Emerging Talent prize last year.”

  “Maybe that’s a good omen.” Jonas hugged him.

  Or bad omen.

  Then Zed and the others were on. The guys were dressed in blue and silver which Caspian thought looked too forced. Fin introduced them all and made a joke about the weather. Caspian knew how they played their first song would determine whether people hung around to listen or went off to have a piss or get something to eat.

  “House of Knives is the first one,” Caspian mumbled.

  Jonas and Henry laughed. “We know,” they said at the same time.

  Of course they did.

  The song was loud, helped by the enormous speakers. It had a compulsive beat and the lyrics were brilliant and quirky, about a relationship in trouble and how everything could go wrong in an instant. Fin was strutting around the stage as if he owned it, but Caspian couldn’t take his eyes off Zed, who was singing his heart out. Caspian’s foot was tapping. He’d sung this song so many times with Zed. The chorus was brilliant, instantly memorable, and when he did manage to drag his gaze from the stage he could see people were dancing. The song ended and the applause was loud. Caspian put his fingers in his mouth and whistled.

  Zed looked up. He couldn’t have heard him but he stared straight at Caspian and smiled.

  They were a huge success. By the time they’d finished playing, the crowd had doubled. Not long after they’d left the stage, Caspian’s phone vibrated.

  “Hi, brilliant one,” Caspian said. “Though you did cock up a few notes in Hurricane.”

  Zed laughed. “Stay where you are and I’ll come to you.”

  “We have to stay here,” Caspian said to Jonas and Henry.

  The next group were halfway through their set before Zed appeared carrying his guitar case. He was wearing eyeliner and he looked gorgeous, except Caspian had wanted them to wear it at the same time. He plastered a smile on his face as Zed headed toward them. No way could he have every first with Zed. Be reasonable.

  Caspian flung his arms around him. “You were so good.”

  “Well done,” Henry said.

  “Our very own star.” Jonas smiled.

  “Hmm,” Zed said.

  “What does that mean?” Caspian stared at him.

  “I’ll tell you when we get back. Where’s my helicopter? Where’s my champagne and caviar?”

  Jonas groaned. “See, Henry? You’ve created a monster.”

  Zed was wide-eyed with delight as they flew back to London. “The journey there was crap. The only good thing about going down yesterday was that we got to see The Foo Fighters last night. Pete had arranged a caravan for us to sleep in and Jonesie snores worse than you.”

  Caspian smiled. He was distracted by what it was that Zed wanted to tell them. Was it better for Jonas to give him the news about Gulshan Pasdar before he said whatever it was he was going to say?

  Nothing was said on the way back to the house. Jonas had an hour before he needed to leave. Henry opened champagne but as they held up their glasses, Zed put his down and sighed.

  “I’ve left the band.”

  Caspian’s lungs locked. Don’t tell me you’ve done it for me.

  Zed turned to Caspian. “Fin is an arsehole. I don’t want to be in a band with him. He found out who you were. Not difficult when we’d told him we met as teenagers. Even without knowing your surname, he put two and two together and got the right answer. Last night he told Pete what you’re supposed to have done.”

  Caspian pressed his lips together.

  “I think Fin thought I’d dump you if it was risking the success of the band. He’s a fucking idiot. I didn’t say a word until after we’d played and then I told Pete I couldn’t play with Fin anymore, that I was done.”

  “Oh fuck,” Caspian muttered. “I worried something like that might happen. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry. This is not because of you, it’s because of Fin. Every time I see him, he gets more and more on my nerves. There is no way we’d have made it beyond a few more months without me killing him. So I will drink the champagne except not to Electric Ice but to all of us—family.”

  “To family,” Jonas and Henry chorused.

  “And talking of family…” Jonas put three tickets on the table. “Gulshan Pasdar is conducting the LSO tomorrow night in a charity concert for the victims of terror attacks. I thought you might like to play the cello with us.”

  Zed upended his glass.

  Jonas grabbed the kitchen roll and mopped up the liquid. “The Swan. You could play it in your sleep. Three minutes, more or less. Okay?”

  “With the LSO?”

  “Yes and with the pianist. On this occasion—that pianist would be me. We can practise tomorrow. And you can decide how to approach Gulshan. After you’ve played would be better.”

  Zed felt as if his whole world had been turned on its head. He had left the band and would have after Fin’s fucking treachery, but Pete had asked Zed to leave because of Caspian. It didn’t fit with the band’s image to have one of the members involved with a guy who’d been to prison for killing three young girls. Zed had gritted his teeth and made it clear there was no choice to be made between the band and Caspian. He would always choose Caspian.
Fin and the others had been shocked when Zed had told them he was done. Zed hadn’t told them that Pete had also suggested once Zed and Caspian were over, he’d love to represent Zed in a solo career.

  Fuck you. Words he’d thought and not said. The only thing keeping him anchored was Caspian and yet Zed knew he had to tread carefully not to dislodge that anchor, because while Zed’s life was full of possibilities, Caspian’s was still full of restrictions and disappointments.

  So far all Caspian’s ideas and inventions had been met with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. No one wanted to invest in him. Caspian had laughed it off but Zed knew he was hurt. He’d told Zed that if the meeting this week about his idea to power a battery to run an iron, using the wasted heat from a tumble drier and washing machine, was greeted with laughter, he was going to look for a job. Zed didn’t think it was his imagination that Caspian seemed too bright and cheerful. Zed had tried to reassure him that nothing had changed between them, but he could feel that it had. No matter how many times he said he’d left the band because Fin was a dick, he didn’t feel Caspian believed him.

  The following day Zed made Jonas practise the Saint-Saens with him until they were both sick of it. Caspian was holed up in Henry’s office working on a ‘secret project’ and had left strict instructions he wasn’t to be disturbed.

  By the time they all set off for the Barbican in Henry’s car, Zed was hyper. “What if he tells me to fuck off? What if says he doesn’t want to have anything to do with me? What if he denies he’s my father?”

  “He might not be your father,” Henry said.

  Though Zed was sure he was.

  “I suppose there could be another Gulshan Pasdar who clears fatbergs out of the sewers for Thames Water,” Caspian said. “Or maybe a Gulshan Pasdar who cleans up bird shit.”